


So Lonesome, So Wholesome

by narcissablaxk



Category: Last Tango In Halifax
Genre: Caroline x Gillian - Freeform, F/F, First Kiss, Heart-to-Heart, S2 Canon Divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissablaxk/pseuds/narcissablaxk
Summary: When Caroline hears about Gillian and Alan's fight after Celia tells Robbie about her abortion, she decides to go visit and make sure she's okay.
Relationships: Gillian Greenwood/Caroline McKenzie-Dawson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	So Lonesome, So Wholesome

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for mention of abuse and Eddie's death.

Caroline wished she could hear the end of family drama that centered around Gillian. It wasn’t malicious, her wish, but she felt guilty as soon as she registered the thought. In this instance, her mother aired Gillian’s dirty linen to the wrong audience, and though Celia was making it sound like Gillian was the absolute villain in this scenario, Caroline found herself feeling pity for her step-sister. How dreadful must it be to have one of your biggest secrets told to the person you were keeping it from without your consent? Well, now that she thought of it, wasn’t that exactly what John had done with her sexuality? 

“Do you want me to call her?” she asked Celia, who had been prattling on about how dreadful she felt for a good twenty minutes now. “Do you want me to get involved?” 

“No, no,” Celia waved her off. “Don’t do that. You know she doesn’t like you.” 

Caroline went still. She always had the suspicion that Gillian didn’t like her, especially because of their disastrous first meeting, but hearing it come out of her mother’s mouth, with such certainty she sounded like she’d heard it straight from Gillian’s, hurt differently.

“You shouldn’t say things like that to people,” she lightly admonished Celia, lest her mother sense insecurity. A chink in her armor was the last thing she wanted her mother acknowledging. If she did, she would have to admit why she wanted Gillian to like her in the first place. And that was not a conversation she was prepared to have.

“It’s true! You know she’s bloody well jealous of you,” Celia said, gathering her stuff, preparing to leave Caroline with that little nugget of information so she could dwell on it all night. “The thing is, I think she’s been a nuisance to Alan since she was young, by the way he talks of her.” 

Caroline shrugged, no longer caring to continue the conversation. When it was informational, she was interested; when it turned into gossip, she wanted the discussion to end. Celia doubtless could see her lack of attention and quickly took her leave. Caroline locked the door behind her and stared at the phone, trying to figure out what to do next. 

Her instincts told her to call Gillian, to apologize for her mother, but her common sense told her that doing so would be disastrous. Perhaps letting Gillian cool off was a better idea – she could call her tomorrow.

She wanted even more to call Gillian the quieter the house got. Kate going back to her house had been a blow, especially because they hadn’t separated because they didn’t care about each other; Kate had decided she wouldn’t burden Caroline with a baby that she clearly didn’t want, and nothing Caroline said could convince her that she wanted a baby after all. And if Caroline were honest – she really didn’t want a baby. 

Still, that didn’t make it any easier.

She picked up the phone and dialed before she could talk herself out of it. She rationalized that she needed to apologize for her mother, but she knew she just didn’t want to rattle around in her house with no one but John to talk to. 

Gillian answered on the third ring. “Hello?” she said, and Caroline could tell from her voice that she had been crying. 

“Gillian, it’s Caroline,” she said, trying to soften her voice. 

“I know that, I have caller ID.”

“Right,” Caroline answered, feeling suddenly like she’d made a mistake. “Maybe I should let you go –”

“Did your mother tell you to call me?” Gillian asked, almost belligerently. 

“No,” Caroline answered hurriedly. “In fact, she told me not to call you. But I wanted to check on you.” 

Gillian didn’t say anything on the other line for a long time, long enough that Caroline took the phone away from her ear to make sure she hadn’t hung up. “Why?” she finally asked. 

“Well,” Caroline reasoned. “I know what it’s like to have a secret told without preparation, and it’s…” 

“Shit?” 

“Yeah,” Caroline laughed. “Shit.” 

“I probably shouldn’t have gone at her like that,” Gillian said quietly. “But…you have to understand –”

“I do understand,” Caroline interrupted. “And I don’t blame you for being angry. She is sorry, but that doesn’t really make it better.” 

“No,” Gillian said, sighing into the receiver. “No, it doesn’t. The worst part is it feels like me dad is officially done with me, like for good.” 

“I’m sure he just needs to cool down,” Caroline said soothingly. “That’s it.” 

“He’s – he’s never yelled at me like that,” Gillian’s voice broke, and Caroline stood from where she had slowly dropped into a chair. “I don’t like when people yell at me.” 

It seemed like an odd statement for someone who often had a short temper, but Caroline didn’t say that. “Did he really yell at you?” she asked instead. 

“Had to plug me ears,” Gillian said, and her voice was distant, like she was somewhere else. Caroline pressed the phone closer to her ear and listened closely to Gillian’s measured breathing. 

“Do you want me to come over?” Caroline asked, when the silence had gone on long enough. 

“No,” Gillian said after a moment’s hesitation. “You have work in the morning.” 

“I’m the head teacher,” Caroline pointed out. “I can come in in the afternoon.” She was already gathering her keys and her bag. “I’ll be there soon. Are Raff and Ellie there?” 

“They went to Harry’s, Raff said I needed time to calm down,” Gillian replied. “You shouldn’t come over, I’m fine.” 

“I’m already in my car,” Caroline said, as if it couldn’t be bothered now. “Too late to turn back, I’m afraid.” 

Gillian chuckled into the phone, and Caroline, for a moment, hoped that she was making the situation better. It was hard to tell with Gillian, she thought as she gathered her coat and shut the door behind her, leaving a note for the boys to wake John for a ride to school in the morning. Sometimes she felt like they’d made great progress, like they were becoming friends, and then the next time they spoke Gillian would be short with her, almost perfunctory, and Caroline wondered again if Celia was right, if Gillian really didn’t like her.

“Gillian?” Caroline asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m going to hang up now, but I’ll be there shortly. We can have some wine and talk. Does that sound alright?” Caroline knew she sounded like she was trying to mother her, but who didn’t need a maternal touch now and again? Especially poor Gillian, who was without her mother and apparently persona non grata with her father. 

“You really don’t have to –”

“This isn’t about have to,” Caroline interrupted. “I want to.” 

“Okay.” 

***

Gillian stared at the phone long after the screen had gone dark, trying to decide what to do. She could clean up the house a bit before Caroline arrived, she could call her again and tell her to stay home, or she could open up a bottle of wine and start drinking. All options were good and bad for different reasons, so instead of doing any of them, she sat on the settee and stared into the empty fireplace. 

She meant what she said, on the phone to Caroline. Her father had never yelled at her like that. He always took pains to keep his voice controlled, even if she yelled. He seemed to realize that she needed to get a bit of shouting out of her system, and that when she was done, she was much calmer than if she had tried to keep it bottled up. But he never seemed to need to yell. Until today.

She was sorry, very sorry that she had caused another argument, but she wasn’t sorry for what she said. Celia was a shit-stirrer, dammit, and Alan knew that was true. She was always telling people other people’s business, and adding her own stupid comments for good measure. This wasn’t the first time she’d been reprimanded for sharing secrets that weren’t hers, but it was her dad’s refusal to see how damaging it was that really cut deep. 

Sure, she slept with Paul Jatri, and that was idiotic. But that didn’t affect him, did it? And sleeping with John, possibly even more idiotic. But it was her business, and yet again it was Celia who was sharing it with other people. 

She wiped at the tears on her cheeks, almost dried, and looked around. Caroline would be here soon. Perfect bloody Caroline. 

She shook her head. There was no reason for her to think of Caroline like that. Caroline was far from perfect, and it wasn’t like people didn’t get angry at her for some reason or another. She just made better decisions, and the fact that she could and Gillian couldn’t just pissed her off sometimes. 

Or maybe she was just angry that someone born on the exact same day had, in the same time, made a life so much better than her own. It was maddening, seeing what someone else had done with the same time you had been given. It ate away at her. Caroline had two sons, a PhD, a lot of money, a huge house, and a girlfriend, and the worst that had happened to her was that John had cheated on her. 

Not a big loss, John. 

Whereas Gillian had poverty, disdain, poor choices, no degree to speak of, and…well, there was Eddie. 

Eddie was the real reason Gillian hated being yelled at, especially by her father, who she figured would never stoop so low. But she couldn’t tell Caroline that. Because then she’d have to explain why Eddie yelled so much, and what else followed after the yelling. She didn’t need Caroline’s pity, didn’t need the comments of “why didn’t you just leave?” Because that’s exactly what strong, perfect Caroline would have done, isn’t it? 

She shook her head. This was a bad idea. She didn’t need to be thinking about Eddie while Caroline was here, not while Caroline was being soft and sweet and altogether not Caroline-like at all. It frightened Gillian when Caroline looked at her beseechingly with her clear, bright eyes, asking for Gillian’s patience so she could understand her better. It made her feel seen, truly listened to, and that was a feeling she hesitated to get used to. Because how would she feel when Caroline inevitably decided she was too much trouble, like Alan had done, and left Gillian alone, but with the knowledge of what it felt like to be heard, seen, understood? 

Headlights turned in at the end of the lane and Gillian pushed all thoughts of Caroline from her mind. She couldn’t afford to be enamored by her step-sister now. 

And then Caroline was knocking on the unlocked door and opening it at the same time, her green jumper complementing the same bright eyes that ensnared Gillian every time, and Gillian was almost angry all over again. It was maddening, seeing Caroline, rumpled and in normal clothes, still looking (and here was that word again) perfect. 

It didn’t occur to her that what she felt wasn’t jealousy at all, but something different. 

***

Caroline found Gillian sitting at her table in the kitchen, staring at the wood like she was searching for something in the knotty grain. She closed the door gently behind her, hanging her coat on the peg with her purse. She wasn’t sure what to do now that she was here. She wanted to comfort Gillian, wanted to make sure she was okay, but it was suddenly difficult to imagine that asking her if she was okay would go well for either of them. 

Instead, she walked past Gillian, dropping a soft hand on her shoulder for just a moment, and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She poured them in silence, her ears straining for anything from Gillian, any sound that might give her a clue as to what to expect. 

She set the glass down in front of her and took the seat across the table, inspecting Gillian’s visage while at the same time trying to look like she wasn’t doing exactly that. Her eyes were red, worn from where Gillian had rubbed them free of tears, her hair just mussed enough that Caroline could picture her pacing around the house, running her fingers through it. 

“You didn’t have to come,” Gillian said finally, taking the wine glass in front of her and taking a sip. Her eyes barely met Caroline’s before finding the table again. 

“I know I didn’t have to,” Caroline pointed out. “But I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“Why?” Gillian asked, and it was so blunt that Caroline flinched. 

“Look, I know you don’t like me, but I happen to like you and care about how you’re doing,” she said in a rush. “Mum made it sound like the row was pretty bad, so –”

“Why do you think I don’t like you?” Gillian asked, her eyes finally meeting Caroline’s curiously over the table. Instantly, Caroline wanted to retreat. There was that determination in Gillian’s eyes that frightened her, that reminded her of some warrior she studied in school and wanted to be like. 

She could say that she thought Gillian didn’t like her because Celia said so, but that would just add petrol to an already destructive fire. Instead, she shrugged noncommittally. 

“You know, Caz, I wish I didn’t like you,” Gillian said in the wake of her silence. “Life would be so much easier if I didn’t like you. But as it is, you’re smart, intimidating, beautiful, and a little bit snobby, which would be fine if you weren’t such a damn good person. It’s irritating.” 

“I’m a good person so it’s irritating?” Caroline repeated, trying not to focus on the fact that Gillian called her beautiful. Still, it echoed in her mind so much that she had to shake it to focus. 

“You’re perfect so it’s irritating,” Gillian corrected blandly, drinking from her glass again. They sat that way for a while, Caroline swimming in some weird kind of high that was entirely the fault of Gillian’s compliments, while at the same time trying to figure out why she felt so gratified. Why did it matter so much what Gillian thought of her? 

She didn’t know, but she did know that it did matter. That much was unequivocal.

“Why don’t you like it when people yell at you?” she asked finally. Gillian flinched away from the question, her fingers tracing nonsense into the base of the wine glass. “Why does it bother you so much?” 

“You mean, why does it bother me when I do plenty of yelling?” Gillian asked shrewdly. Caroline shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. No one likes to be yelled at.” 

Caroline pursed her lips. “But it bothers you more. I can see it on your face now. Why does it bother you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Caroline leaned back in her chair. “You’ll feel better if you do.” 

“Guaranteed I won’t,” Gillian said. “And neither will you.” 

“I can handle it,” Caroline said, rising from her seat. “Come on, let’s go into the sitting room and we can discuss it.” 

“I don’t want to discuss it,” Gillian repeated, but she was taking Caroline’s hand and allowing her to pull her into the sitting room, directing her onto the settee. They settled in beside each other, Caroline very much aware that Gillian’s knee was pressing into her thigh.

She told the story as quick as she could, knowing that by doing so she was sparing Caroline as much as she was sparing herself, and by the time she was finished, Caroline had such a tight hold on her hand that it was almost painful, fire burning in her gaze. 

“Eddie’s lucky he’s dead,” she said quietly, turning away from Gillian to fix her eyes on something else. “Or I would’ve killed him.” 

Gillian considered telling her the truth then, her eyes boring into Caroline’s stately profile. This was her opening, the one opportunity she had to be honest. When was she ever going to get another chance? 

“You said he took his own life?” Caroline asked, reaching for her glass of wine and polishing it off gracefully. She let the silence hold while she put the glass back on the table. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah,” Gillian breathed, still trying to gather the mettle she needed to tell the truth.

“But that isn’t what really happened, is it?” Caroline asked softly.

***

If she were honest, Caroline wasn’t sure she wanted an answer to her question. Gillian’s stricken face was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. And who was she to condemn Gillian for doing what she’d done in the name of survival? 

_If I hadn’t done it to him, he would have done it to me,_ she’d said tearfully, and Caroline didn’t doubt for a moment that she was right. She felt her muscles tighten in anger again, and realized she still had a tight grip on Gillian’s hand. 

“Sorry,” she said into the heavy silence, pulling her hand free. 

“Do you really want to know?” Gillian asked. 

Suddenly, Caroline was exhausted. The world had been pressing down on her for the past week, demanding more than she had to give, and the prospect of having this conversation, the one she’d opened, was almost more than she could bear. But if the week had been hard for her, how hard had it been for Gillian? 

_Selfish,_ Kate’s voice came to her again, unbidden, and she pushed it away with a shake of her head. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said to Gillian. “I already know.” 

Gillian took in her face, the set of her brow, and clenched her jaw. “No one else does.” 

“I won’t tell,” Caroline promised. Gillian released a breath Caroline hadn’t realized she was holding, and Caroline felt an urge to pull her into her embrace so strong she almost couldn’t stop herself. One of her arms rose and tucked itself around Gillian’s shoulders companionably. There, she thought nervously. There’s a happy medium.

_I’ve shed blood in every room in this house._

She shivered in spite of herself, still trying desperately to appear strong. Gillian had been a pillar of strength for so long, surely she deserved at least one night of someone else taking up her mantle. 

“You’re thinking about it,” Gillian pointed out quietly. “It’s easier if you don’t.” 

“How do you stay here?” Caroline whispered, her breath ruffling Gillian’s hair. “After…all that?” 

Gillian shrugged. “Nowhere else to go,” she said simply.

Caroline let the statement settle over her. It was true enough. Gillian talked of money troubles often enough that she knew moving somewhere else wasn’t an option. Farms weren’t exactly easy to come by, and the land alone was probably out of her buying range. But how awful must it be to live in the home that used to be your prison? To try with all of your strength to save it because it was the only option you had? 

Caroline cast her eyes around the room and made a decision. “Go pack yourself a bag,” she said. Gillian pulled away from her arm to look up at her in disbelief. “Come on, you’re staying with me tonight.” 

“But the sheep –”

“Give me your phone, and I’ll tell Raff he’s got to do it tomorrow morning,” Caroline said. “No excuses, come on.” 

Obediently, surprise still etching her features, Gillian passed over her phone. She watched as Caroline navigated it expertly, finding Raff’s number and sending him a quick text. Caroline brought her gaze up to Gillian and smiled. 

“Go.” 

It was almost one in the morning by the time they made it back to Caroline’s house, the windows dark and empty. She had hypothesized correctly that John would be at Judith’s; he spent most of his time there anyway nowadays. 

Before long, Gillian was settled into the spare bedroom bed, a cup of herbal tea in her hands, an expression of bewilderment on her face. Caroline leaned on the doorway, smiling down at her. She still hadn’t accepted that Caroline was anxious to do something for her, even something as small as giving her a place to sleep that wasn’t her home. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Caroline admonished lightly. Gillian motioned for her to come closer, and she took a seat at the edge of the bed. 

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Gillian defended.

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “You look surprised.” 

“You always seem to surprise me, Caz,” Gillian replied, looking down at her lap. “Just when I think I’ve got you figured out –”

“Yes well, I’m much more than a snotty bitch,” Caroline laughed. 

“I know that,” Gillian said, all trace of humor gone. 

Caroline didn’t know who kissed who first. All she knew was one minute she was thinking about what it would be like to kiss her, and then she was. Gillian fumbled to put her cup of tea on the side table without spilling it and took gentle hold of the sides of Caroline’s face, her fingers pressing a reassuring pattern into her skin. 

She tasted like wine and tea and was far gentler than Caroline suspected Gillian was capable of being, and when she pulled away, Gillian met her gaze unapologetically. 

“Do you want to stay?” Gillian asked, indicating the open side of the bed beside her. 

Caroline smiled at her and didn’t answer. An answer wasn’t necessary. 

She settled in beside Gillian, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead before pulling her as close as she’d wanted to back at the farm, relishing in her warmth, in her soft breath on her clavicle, even her ice cold feet just barely brushing against her leg. 

She was halfway to a peaceful sleep when Gillian’s voice came to her. 

“Don’t tell Celia.” 

They laughed quietly in the dark together, like they were telling secrets.


End file.
